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Chapter 27 – The Giver

Kay finished typing her resignation. She clicked ‘Send’, and it was gone. Kay looked at the blank screen, but didn’t feel sorry or worried at all. She had given up her job because she had let Ajay down, a man who had always trusted her and supported her. Now it would be unfair to expect he would keep supporting her when she was giving nothing in return. She didn’t know when she would go back, Michael was out there and she couldn’t just leave him here. Ajay was a good man, who even compromised his work ethic and rules for her and that’s why she could no longer keep him guessing. Michael was also a door that had closed for her, he would probably go to prison for a long time and that’s if he’s lucky. Most likely he will not make it out of that forest alive, and this time he would be too far away for her to reach out and pick him up again. Kay looked at her phone, it was a message from Hans, ‘Come quick to the town square, v urgent’.

Kay drove up to the town square, the media vans had already made their home there, and reporters were in a frenzy outside the police headquarters. A man was in the centre of it all, but he was held by police. ‘Who is he’? Kay thought as she reached in her bag to get her notebook, then remembered she no longer represents ‘Crime Speaks’. The man was pulled away by the officers, as they took him inside. He was trying to give a statement, ‘I WILL BE HEARD’! His voice ballooned around the scrum of people before he disappeared into the station. Hans made his way out of the crowd as he spotted Kay. ‘Who was that’? ‘That Miss Winters, is Royalty’. ‘Royalty’? ‘Yes, you heard the name Jacob Turner’? ‘No, I haven’t’. Hans smiled, ’I’m surprised you didn’t do your homework on ‘the seekers’. Kay looked at Hans remembering that name did mean something. ‘I did read that name …’. Hans interrupted, ‘He is the Father of these condemned children’!

‘I want my phone call’. The young officer, looked up, ‘I’m not arresting you’.

The man sitting across the desk to him, seemed unflustered, wearing a brown suede jacket, open shirt and trousers. He looked at the officer through his tinted shades, ‘So what am I doing in a police station’? He had a strong southern accent which carried an air of grandiose. ‘Mr Turner, you are not permitted to enter any state in this country and make a public statement or any kind of speech’.

‘Freedom of Speech. What a wonderful illusion we have in this great country’.

‘I think you should leave town, if the sheriff was here he would have you locked up’. Jacob Turner leaned forward glancing at the officer’s name badge, ‘Parker, I’m not some drug pusher on your stinkin’ streets who no-one gives a flying fuck about. I get locked up and an army would be outside’.

‘Are you threatening me’?

‘Threats are for wimps, son. I’m the real deal’. Jacob Turner stood up, putting his hand to his neatly combed hair, ensuring the tussle outside hadn’t ruined his appearance. ‘Mr Turner, I do advise you to leave town. You have no business here’. ‘If I need your advice then I know where to find you’.

Hans and Kay drove to the ‘cultural youth club’, where some of the locals gathered because Jacob Turner was going to deliver a talk. This news had been leaked onto the internet, and even people from neighbouring towns had come to be part of this ever growing circus. Hans and Kay walked towards the centre, ‘They won’t let us in’.

‘Yes they will, as soon as you tell them you’re from a big journal in Chicago’. ‘I resigned’. Hans stopped and glanced at Kay, ‘doesn’t matter, you have your I.D card’. The young men at the door glanced at Kay’s I.D card and spoke in their radio to someone else. ‘Ok Ma’am just you’.

‘I’m her assistant’, Hans said as he glanced a smile at Kay. The young man frisked Hans and then let him through. Inside there was hordes of people, Hans and Kay made their way to a table at the other end of the hall. Jacob Turner sat there, signing copies of his own book ‘Blood Giver’.

’Mr Turner, I am from ‘Crime Speaks’, the men at the door let me in. Can I interview you’? Jacob Turner looked up, ‘Ok, I have five minutes. Follow me’. Jacob Turner finished signing the copy in his hand and stood up, as three men accompanied them to a room behind the hall. The room was small and dark, with four chairs placed around a table in the centre. Jacob Turner sat down and gestured to Kay and Hans to take a seat. ‘My associate has a stop watch and he will inform you when five minutes is over’. Kay looked at the man, who stood next to them. ’Mr Turner, why have you come to this town? Jacob Turner smiled, ‘Isn’t it obvious? Sorry you are not from here, are you’? ‘No, I’m not’. Jacob Turner glanced at Hans, ‘You are’. Hans nodded, ‘that’s right’.

‘So you know me, and you know about the blood feud’? Kay looked at Hans, then back at Jacob Turner.

‘Miss Winters, right. That’s what your badge says’. ‘That is my name’. ’Miss Winters, every age has a battle between good and evil. I’m not just talking about the small gun fights in the streets of LA or anywhere else between the drug dealers and cops. That is not ‘good and evil’, that is the same human scum battling each other for material gain. What I am talking about is something biblical. A holy war between the army of God against the legion of the devil’.

‘Mr Turner, I … I don’t want to know about your beliefs’.

‘But you want to know why I am here. My beliefs are the reason for me being here. Do we ever get a chance to actually witness what we preach? Even your pastors have never actually witnessed anything they talk about, or try to convince you of’! Kay looked at Hans, almost for assistance, Hans tried to take over the conversation as though Kay had been struck down and handed the baton to her partner. ‘Mr Turner, what we ...’. Jacob Turner put up his hand, ‘Let the lady talk’. Kay looked back at Jacob Turner, his eyes glaring at her from behind his brown tints, ‘Mr Turner, what is happening in this town, does this have anything to do with what you believe’? Jacob Turner laughed, ’Ofcourse. I have waited for this for a lifetime. To witness the ‘coming’ of a just angel. Descending to avenge the blood of his fallen brethren’.

‘Who is the just angel’?

‘He is the man who these devils are trying to stop; Gabriel ’. Kay looked at Hans, then back at Jacob Turner, her time was about to finish she could feel it.

‘The suspect is actually his brother; Michael Martyn’.

Jacob Turner looked at the man standing over them as he signalled the time had ended. ’Miss Winters, Gabriel has returned. He is my prophecy and the ‘seeker’ of the righteous Kingdom. DO NOT FEAR THE VENGEANCE OF HIM, AS ONLY THE VILE WILL BE SLAIN AND THE INNOCENT WILL BE PROTECTED. HE WILL BE IN THE SHADE OF HIS OWN OFFSPRING, WHO IS BEING CARRIED TODAY’. Jacob Turner’s voice rose through the walls of the room, penetrating every corner echoing far beyond the confines of this centre, its street and the town. Kay picked up a copy of his book as they left.

Kay sat in her room and read Jacob Turner’s memoirs as though she was a groupie smitten by the charisma of this man. She had turned off her phone as she had seventeen missed calls from Ajay. Kay wasn’t worried about Ajay or anything else, she just wanted to enter the mind of this fanatic. Kay didn’t understand what she was looking for, as she read parts of his book and skipped others, asking herself, ‘Was this book going to help save Michael’? The answer was probably ‘No’. But what she searched for was the truth behind ‘Gabriel’. Who was he? The answer came in page 72, in this prophet’s own words; ’I have never claimed to be a prophet or even a leader to these people. I am a ‘seeker’ as they are. I am a Reverend, a Shepherd and the direction I show them is not to ‘Me’. But it is to something higher, I have spent my life searching for the ‘Giver’. He is the one to bring balance to the imbalance caused by rebellious children. I am not ‘him’ as the Lord will not allow me to be ‘him’, but ‘the Giver’ shall appear after blood is shed and our sins are cleansed. The ‘Blood Giver’ will not be harmed by mortal men, and only his kind can bring him harm. Searching for him was the weightiest of tasks but I found him. Kay turned over the page quickly, ‘A good man named Shane, came to me. He possessed the vulnerability of a poor farmer, carrying injury and personal frailty but his offspring bore the resemblance of a mighty soldier. Dark eyes and large hands, stronger than his age should have allowed him to be, obstructed by lost direction but aided by a lover’s heart’. He was the ‘Giver’, and destiny brought me to him. My years of searching and inspiration taught me that the saviours have to be resurrected to defeat the mortals, because immortality brings an end to one’s weakness and only then can he annihilate the mortal men of his age’.

Kay put the book down, four hours had passed and her mind had become numb. She felt like running away, getting into her car and driving all the way back to Chicago without stopping. She felt like the little girl who hides underneath her bed cover, too scared to pop out her head because she might see a ghost. She had already made that mistake, and she had seen something that would never allow her to sleep again.

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